


Glitter

by Kitty Fisher (kittyfisher)



Category: Smallville
Genre: Bittersweet, First Time, Lex is messed up, M/M, Sex, lex in makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyfisher/pseuds/Kitty%20Fisher
Summary: Post the party of the season Lex pays Clarke's barn a visit. And Clark. And messed up shenanigans commence. Poor Lex...Another from the archive...
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Kudos: 28





	Glitter

GLITTER

by Kitty Fisher

As soon as he walked into the barn, Clark knew someone else was there. Slowing as he pushed the door closed, he peered into the shadows.

"Hello?"

A rustling sounded from his right, and the darkness shifted slightly.

"Who is it?" He wasn't afraid. He was never afraid, not really, not for himself. But he was wary, and he tensed as he peered forward. Both his mom and dad were in bed. There was no one he would expect to be calling in the early hours. No one, except...

He didn't turn the lights on, just stepped forward to where moonlight spilled silver onto the earthen floor. As he stood still and his sight adjusted, the shape formed into a man. He caught a glimpse of naked scalp.

Clark let the tension smooth away. Not a stranger. Just Lex, leaning against the wall. There was no indication of how long he'd been there, standing in the dark.

"Hello, Lex." Unsure, Clark hesitated. "I didn't hear you pull up. Where's your car?"

"A way off." The words were spoken on a gusting breath, as if Lex was waking up. "I walked the rest."

Deeply unsettled, Clark tried to laugh. "Couldn't you sleep? You know, it's kind of late for visitors."

"It wasn't when I arrived."

Oh. So how long had he been here? And why? "You could've come over to the house — I've only been watching TV."

"I wasn't..." He didn't finish the sentence, just shrugged, and Clark saw he was wearing a dark tank, which left most of his shoulders bare. Which, in its own way, was as weird as Lex standing around waiting for him in the middle of the night.

Clark obliged, "Sure?"

"Exactly. I wasn't sure."

Silence again. Clark shoved his hands into his pockets and took a half step towards the wall, then stopped as Lex flinched, almost imperceptibly.

"You could have sat up on the couch. There's some sodas, candy too — mom makes sure I don't starve or get thirsty over here." He felt like he was babbling stupidly. But he needed to say something, and Lex wasn't helping at all.

"Thanks."

"Want one now?"

"No."

"Lex..."

A lift of one hand, a gesture that was impatient even in the shadows. "I should go. I'm not really sure why I'm here." The latter part was a whisper.

It was odd, standing in the barn in the middle of the night with Lex. But it wasn't unpleasant. Truth be told, it was the way a few of his favourite fantasies started. Clark cleared his throat. "Don't go. Not now that you're here. I mean, I'm not sleepy yet. Please?"

Lex laughed. At least, Clark thought it was laughter, the sound dusty–dry, uncertain. The hairs on his neck lifted. There was something wrong, though he had no idea what it could be. He hesitated, and then moved another step closer.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."

Not quite total conviction. "Lex, please?" The awkwardness was unsettling. He knew he should be doing something, saying something, but all he could feel was a kind of low–level panic. Lex wasn't the one who got upset. Lex was always the one in control. Lex was... Lex.

Very slowly, the figure moved away from the wall and stepped into the moonlight.

Clark let out a breath. Lex. No blood that he could see, and the part of him that had been adjusted to seeing Lex with bruises was pleased. Nothing unusual, unless you counted the glitter on Lex's high cheekbones, or the color darkening his lips. Clark stopped himself from exclaiming by sheer force of will. Not because of the doll–like effect the makeup lent to Lex's face, but because, under it all, Lex looked different. Very tired. Or something less easy to define.

"So... Where have you been?"

"Oh, I've been to London to see the Queen..." Lex laughed softly again, shaking his head slowly as he wrapped his arms around his body, folding them precisely as he kicked softly at the floor. "Do you like nursery rhymes, Clark? You know, the best ones are all about the worst kinds of tragedy. Death and plague and whores. Pretty shiny things for the children — with a side order of posies to ward off the Black Death." He shrugged, lifted his head and met Clark's eyes for the first time.

Lex's eyes were bleak. Even the darkening of his lashes couldn't hide the hollowness under his eyes.

"Lex, are you high?"

"No." Head cocked to one side, he seemed to consider, then he shook his head. "Not really."

Clark closed the distance between them. "You're wearing make–up." It wasn't exactly what he intended to say.

Lex lifted one hand and touched his lips. Then he wiped his forearm over his mouth, smearing the color away. "Sorry. Forgot."

"It's not like it's a problem. I just... Well, you look different."

Lex peered down at himself and Clark followed his gaze. Heavy black pants, cut like jeans, and a tank made from a lighter version of the same material. Shiny, tight to Lex's torso in a way Clark wasn't sure was decent.

"There was a party. In a club."

He seemed to think that was explanation enough. "Shouldn't you be sleeping it off?"

"You sound like your father."

"Disapproving?"

"Yes."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to be." Clark turned and began walking up the stairs. "I'm going to sit down. You coming?"

He wasn't sure if Lex would follow him but, after a second or two, he heard the tread of Lex's boots on the wooden stairs. Clark sat down, and waited for Lex to follow. The moonlight here was stronger. He could see Lex as clearly as if it were day — even if the colors were all askew, different enough to enhance the oddness. Like he was in the middle of a dream.

And he dreamed of Lex often. In all kinds of ways.

Lex slid onto the couch, graceful as smoke. He smelled of warm rubber and sweat and, incongruously, of beeswax. The slightly sweet mix was pleasant, weirdly out of place in their surroundings. Lex's clothes whispered and squeaked gently as he moved. Clark had never seen latex pants. Or anything else wearable in rubber, apart from the gloves his mom wore to wash the dishes.

He tried not to stare. But Lex's arms were naked. This on a man who always buttoned to the cuff. They were nice arms, slim, strongly muscled, like the rest of him. His belly was concave, but the tight black tank showed the ripple of muscle as he breathed. Clark knew he shouldn't look any further, but he risked a quick glance then shot back up to Lex's face, trying not to panic.

Lex was looking at him.

He felt his sphincter clench in response.

Dry–mouthed, Clark turned sideways. "Was it a good party?"

"What day is it?"

Clark considered the question strange but he answered it anyway. "Friday. Or Saturday, really, as it's around two."

"Then it was a good party."

"Oh. When did it start?"

"Thursday." Lex thought about it. "Yeah, Thursday."

"And you stayed all that time? Was it a friend's?" Not that he really wanted to know the details. But he couldn't have Lex here, on his couch, and not make conversation with him. It was that, or sit and stare. Probably looking like a total dork. Which came easily, true, but he was trying to give it up. When he was with Lex, anyway.

"It was a rich bitch's coming out party. All I could think about was getting back here. To be home. And you know? Until that moment I hadn't even realized that's what Smallville is." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head and the knot of warmth in Clark's belly expanded as Lex gestured emptily. "I was so fucking bored. A room full of assholes in Armani — at least they had something to talk about."

Clark felt a flash of something akin to anger. "You should have been here. Who was the girl?"

"A brood mare. Our fathers like each other's fortunes."

"Oh."

"She hated me on sight."

"The latex pants didn't impress her?"

Lex raised a brow at him. "Well done, Clark. I'm not sure I'd have bet on you knowing what this stuff was, let alone realizing why I wore it."

"Yeah, the farmboy only recognizes flannel." Stung, Clark lifted his head. "I do know some stuff, Lex."

Lex looked down into his lap, staring at his hand. His fingers were flexing — open, closed, open, long fingers curling on nothing but air. "I know you do. And no, it didn't impress anyone, especially not my father."

"Did you fight?"

"We always fight. He'll get over it." He sat back on the couch, resting his head, closing his eyes.

Clark watched him. The shiny glitter on his cheeks made Lex look exotic. It didn't make him any more approachable than normal. Any more touchable. Even if he looked as gay as it was possible to be. Maybe that was the fashion in Metropolis this season. Makeup for boys. It was as likely as anything else.

"Would you like a soda?"

"Got any water?"

"Yeah. No little blue bottles though." He stood up and fetched a plastic water bottle and a can of root beer for himself. "Here."

Lex opened his eyes. Their hands met as Clark passed the water across. He could have sworn Lex shivered.

He sat again. A little closer to Lex. It was getting chilly. Maybe Lex was cold.

"You want a sweater or something?"

Tight smile, and a glance accompanying it that made him breathless.

"I'm not cold, Clark."

What then? "Lex..."

"Mmm?" He cracked the top off the bottle and took a swig of water. His throat rippled as he swallowed.

"Oh. Nothing."

Deep breath. The water was almost all gone.

"Go on. Ask, whatever it is that's sitting on your tongue."

"Why did you come here?"

Lex screwed the top back on, then put the bottle on the floor. He licked his lips, wiped them with his fingers. Then he looked at Clark. "Remember, three hours ago I was slightly less sober than I am now."

And that was an answer? Clark shook his head. "Yeah, and..."

"OK, if you really want the truth." He bit down on the word. "With no compromises, Clark?"

"No." Clark had to make two attempts to get the word out; not really from nerves, more from a kind of breathless anticipation that he was certain he shouldn't be feeling.

"I came here because I want to get fucked. More specifically, I want to get fucked by you."

Clark was certain his hearing had gone. Or his brain no longer functioned. Mainly because every atom of awareness in his possession seemed to have jumped straight down to his groin.

"Oh."

A hand reached out and touched his shoulder. Lex's hand. Clark felt it massage gently. Then it just drifted away. He felt the couch shift as Lex made to get up.

Clark stopped him, his fingers curled around Lex's arm. It was warm, the muscle taut under soft skin.

"I really should go." But Lex didn't move away.

"No." Clark pulled him back, though he scarcely resisted. They sat facing each other, Clark's hand still holding his arm. "You didn't get what you came for." Oh yes, daring, daring. But... Lex here. Lex almost vulnerable. Clark watched him shiver again.

"No. No, I didn't." He shook his head and the glitter sparkled in the moonlight.

He looked pretty. Clark thought the word, then turned it in his head for a while. Yes, pretty. Undeniably male, but softened by the paint, by the light streaming in from the waxing moon that hung heavy in the dark sky. It gave a strange edge to his arousal.

Lex's voice was roughened with tension. "I thought you might despise me."

"But you asked anyway." In a moment he felt their relationship shift. Still friends, but more, Lex suddenly exposed as being as insecure as he was himself. Deep down. Maybe. At least here. In this place where all was suddenly endless possibility.

"I did." Lex shrugged, as if the asking had been nothing. "Do or be damned. Be damned anyway."

"Did you really need dutch courage?"

"Looks like it. Or I'd have made a move a long time ago."

"You're so... sure of yourself. I thought you weren't interested. And that's why you never did anything."

"I've never loved anyone before, Clark. It complicates things."

All the air shunted from his lungs. Love. Clark couldn't quite hold the idea in his head. Lex couldn't really have just said he loved him. Maybe this was a dream after all. "Oh, really?"

"I lie about a lot of things, Clark, but not this." He shrugged, his shoulders shifting in a blur of pale moonlit skin. "Not the wanting to be fucked, nor the love."

"I..." He didn't mean to hesitate. Not in a statement kind of way. He was just floundering.

He saw Lex shutter his eyes. Saw the tightening of his muscles as he painfully reassessed. "Don't say anything. Don't say either way." Lex was suddenly urgent, leaning towards Clark, his eyes bright. "Just fuck me."

Clark stared at him. And saw how dilated his eyes were. "You're still stoned."

"Oh yes, Clark, and that makes all the difference! Yes, you've got it; I tell everyone I love them after a few lines. Of course, how stupid of me not to remember! You should see me after some of the really mind–expanding shit, then I just tell the whole damn world I love it."

"Lex—"

"No. Let's forget the drugs and the love — just do me. One fuck, and I promise I'm gone."

"Lex, stop it! I wasn't saying you didn't mean it—"

"Yeah? Well now you'll never be sure." Lex stared, so intensely that Clark thought one of them might combust. "So, take what you're offered, that's my advice. And Luthor advice doesn't come cheap, unless it's free of course, though that's probably the drugs talking too."

"I don't..."

"Yes, you do." And Lex leaned forward and kissed him.

There was no room for denial.

Clark groaned as soon as Lex touched him. The minute a large hand cupped around his groin, he lifted his hips and opened his mouth to the insistent lips. God, it was like fire ripping through his veins. Tasting Lex. Just tasting the bitterness of his mouth, the need and the possessiveness, it was all overwhelming. Like freefalling through the sky from a great height, airless, without any control.

He couldn't have kept from responding, even if his life had depended on it. Besides, he could persuade Lex about the love thing later. After the fuck. When they were sane and Lex was sober and Clark could say all the things he'd practised in private, again and again.

Reaching up, Clark cupped Lex's head, stroking the softness of his bare skin. Lex made a sound like a whimper and, with a shift of muscle, he was suddenly straddling Clark, kneeling over him, his hands pulling at the old cotton of his shirt as he deepened the kiss. Stroking, his hands bared skin, clutching as if trying to reach every inch of it all at the same time.

Then he unzipped Clark's jeans.

Clark almost bucked him off, arching up and back as Lex ripped his fly open. When Lex's hand touched flesh, Clark snarled, and kissed back as hard as he was kissed. With both hands he grabbed Lex's ass and pulled until their groins were tight together. The trousers were warm — skin warm — under his hands. He could feel the flex and relaxation of muscle as Lex ground down into him. The rubber became slippery under his touch, and he smoothed his hands back and forth, gripping hard, squeezing until Lex moaned into his mouth.

"Yes..."

The word spoken inside him, in his wide–stretched mouth as Lex tried to suck him inside out. Clark groaned and squeezed again, almost laughing as Lex gasped.

Before he could do anything else, Lex had slipped, eel–like, from his grasp. Standing right in front of him, Lex unzipped. He wasn't wearing anything else. He eased the teeth of the zipper carefully past his hard–on, then just pushed down, shucking the pants off, cursing softly as the rubber snagged on his boots, impatiently kicking the fabric away. Then he was back, sitting on Clark's lap, his knees tight to spread thighs, his booted feet hard against Clark's shins. He grinned madly, eyes narrowed, the paint bright on his face. He kissed Clark again, hard and fast. And, before Clark could catch him, was on his knees on the floor, Clark's cock in his mouth.

Clark almost cried out, but remembered in time. He choked on the sound, forcing it back as Lex licked and sucked, making him harder than before. Maybe than ever before. Wet, sucking sounds, and all through it, Lex moaning in the back of his throat, the sound a constant, a soundtrack to Clark losing his mind. Insane. He had to be. They both had to be. But...

Lex released his cock. The cool air a shock after the heat of Lex's mouth, Clark whimpered. And found Lex sitting across his lap again, crooning softly to him, soothing him, stroking his face and his hair and smiling, smiling like a lunatic or a saint, smiling as he lifted and slowly settled, one hand holding Clark's cock up and still, holding it while he skewered himself upon it.

Clark felt his blood turn to ash as it incinerated.

Heat and constriction and Lex. Flames licked at his mind.

He was fucking Lex. No. Lex was fucking himself. But on Clark's cock. No lube. He was sure they needed lube. No condom either. Not that it mattered. All the lessons flew out of his mind and he didn't care, because this was Lex, half–naked, riding him.

He groaned again. Lex grinned, all teeth and feral need, and slammed his ass down. There had to be pain. Clark could see it in Lex's face, in the tightness, in the ripples of tension in his jaw as he rocked back and forth, in the tiny, hissing sounds that escaped his lips as he lifted and fell. Fucking himself brutally. Clark had a brief moment when he thought he should be hurting too. Would have been, had he not been different. Then Lex leaned in and kissed him, his hands searching and touching, finding places that made Clark respond that Clark had never thought about. His hipbone, his armpit, the bend of his elbow where sweat from both of them was pooling. A nail scraping over his nipple made him jerk upwards. Again, and he growled, sliding down the couch, grabbing Lex's bare ass and shoving himself upwards. Lex arched, bowing back suddenly, his eyes closed, his mouth open.

Clark pulled him close, bit his skin. Bit the rubber shirt, tearing the fabric with his teeth, wanting bare Lex, wanting this and everything, now, right now. The greed in him was unbearable. He used his strength and ground his cock deep into the heat of Lex's ass, feeling the give as the muscles opened for him, as Lex's body stopped fighting and just accepted him. Opening, taking every last inch. All of him, deep in Lex. Clark bit down hard on one nipple and traced the flat of his hand over Lex's belly. In there. Deep inside him, Clark's cock.

He groaned, and knew he was going to come soon. A slip–slide of panic and then he didn't care, because Lex shuddered, his cock dark red. Clark gripped it and watched, groaning again as Lex's come shot high, spattering hotly on Clark's chest and chin. Lex was lost, already falling forward, but Clark lifted his hips and fucked him, hard and fast, keeping it going until Lex was limp in his grasp, whimpering. Then, Clark came too, shooting heat into Lex's body, quivering, gasping, mindless as he jerked and Lex collapsed, moaning sharply as Clark's cock jerked free of his ass.

Lex was heavy, panting as if he'd run a long way very fast. Clark felt him shiver once, then begin to move away.

Clark tried to stop him, but holding on to slick skin when he was still wiped out was impossible. He watched Lex stumble upright. He winced as he picked up his pants, pulling them the right way out with careful, deliberate movements.

"Lex." He wanted to sleep. To hold Lex. Or be held by him.

"Mmm?"

"Stay?"

Gingerly, Lex sat on the couch. After a while he began to pull his pant–legs over his boots. Dazed, Clark watched the fabric catch every few inches. "No."

"Oh." Clark reached out lazily and touched Lex's back. Lex jerked away as if burned. "Lex, I didn't mean it."

"What?" He turned, looked at Clark. Then he shook his head. "Forget it, Clark. I was horny, you got laid. Ipso facto."

"Don't..." Clark sat up, slowly because he didn't seem to have any co–ordination any more. "I'm sorry. What did I do wrong?"

"This should have been about trust, Clark. In the end it was just about a fuck."

"But..."

"No buts." He stopped working on his pants. He stopped doing everything and sat. He should have looked stupid, half–dressed, makeup smeared all over his face, but Clark looked at him and felt his stomach flip over.

"Lex, I do love you."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Clark sat up. His cock was sticky in his hand as he tucked it away. It felt better to be decent. "I have for ages."

"But you don't trust me." Lex reached out one long arm, and with his thumb rubbed Clark's cheek. It came away shiny with glitter. "One means fuck–all without the other."

"I do..." But Clark knew the lie was blatant. His father was there in his head, disapproving. The Luthors only want, they never give. But Lex had given. And not just his body. Clark swallowed, wanting so much to be normal. "I do trust you, as much as I can." And that statement was too much. His dad would be spitting nails if he knew his son had given even that little away.

"Maybe I know that." Lex looked down at his bare thighs. "You know, it was a good fuck." He stood up, dragging his pants up, fastening them as he stood there, his face cool and remote, the smears of shadow and mascara hardly affecting his solemnity.

"Yeah." Clark shivered. Then, feeling half ashamed, he zipped up, fastened the snap on his jeans. "You did all the work."

"Figured it was the fastest way. You ever done it before?"

"No."

Lex flinched then, turning his head slightly away, as if he'd hoped for a different answer. "Sorry..."

"No, don't! It was... amazing. Priceless."

A breath of laughter twisted Lex's face. "That's all right. I don't charge for a fuck either. Not you, anyway."

"Lex." Clark heard his own disapproval, and hated it. "Thank you."

"For letting you have me for free? A pleasure."

"No! You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?" That look again, intense, burning deep into Clark.

"Please, talk to me."

"I'm not sure we're ready for talking, Clark."

Unsteadily, Clark stood up. "Stop it."

"No. I'm going. Sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. There's only one left for tonight."

"You driving?"

"I'm not walking." Lex smiled, a tight, withdrawn smile that was like a parody of amusement. "I'm setting the sound system to deafening and heading... away."

"Lex..." Clark reached for him, though Lex moved out of reach. "Stay."

"No." He took a deep breath. "Bye, Clark. See you around." And, turning on his heel, Lex walked slowly down the stairs.

"I'll come with you!"

Lex hesitated, one hand on the railing. He turned his head, just enough to look back at Clark. "No. Let me go."

In that moment Clark hated himself. He nodded, miserably.

Another smile. This time it was sweeter, like the smile Lex smiled only for him. "Thanks."

And with that he was gone, ghosting out the door and into the night. Clark watched him for a while, then he left him his privacy. He didn't think Lex would want to know he'd been spied on. Not when his face was wet with tears.

END


End file.
